I’ve been hibernating; winter has helped make this happen. But moreso, I find myself frozen, waiting for the next big ride I’ll have. I had a great year in 2025. Aside from a broken hand in the spring, I committed to competition and ended up competing in the two biggest events of my life back-to-back: the Trials des Nations in Italy, then flying straight to Mexico to compete in the Baja Six-Day Rally. I was riding high, although I was burnt out from travel and training beforehand. The high carried me, the energy that was embodied in each of these events kept me focused on competition, and I found new clarity while riding.

Once I got back home, I went into a somewhat vegetative state. I thought it was because I was exhausted from a month of travel and competition, but I started to realize I was coming down from the high, I was in withdrawal. I had experienced this many times before when coming back from a long road trip on the bike. 

You adapt and learn to see the unknown as a friend. You get used to being on the road, seeing new scenery and having the freedom a bike gives. But you must always get back at some point, right? And at the moment when you pull back into your driveway and realize you’ve made it home, it dawns on you: You have to adapt back to real life. The most exciting part of your recent life is over. How do you integrate back into your old routine when you have just had a life-changing experience?

That was how I felt, realizing that I had gotten so engrossed with racing and competition — working up the whole of 2025 for this big trip — that I never thought about what to do after. I had gone and competed with the best trials riders in the world, then onto my first rally race, where I pushed every boundary I had just to finish. Over the course of the previous weeks, my perspective had changed so much from my experience. 

Now, back in the simple comfort of my living room, it would seem I had forgotten how to live my old life. I sat there looking at my schedule, scouring races that I would consider doing next. The iconic Steve McQueen once said, “Racing is life, anything before or after is just waiting.” And that hit me like a brick wall. Racing had become my life, something I’ve always strived for but hadn’t realized I had reached it until I finally had some downtime to reflect. I had wanted this so bad, I never stopped to think about how to let it go when it was finally over.

I think, as riders, we experience this in many ways, whether it’s a short or a long ride. Those moments alone in your helmet, secluded from all other distractions, allow you to dig deeper in your soul and find that bliss that we experience while riding. Or perhaps sometimes it’s just the ability to escape to a resounding peace anytime we’re riding. It can be tough to take the helmet off and integrate back with people and society.

I felt stuck. I was flying at light-speed while racing; now, being home, I found myself feeling like I was in quicksand. With that was another daunting realization: I had been avoiding some things in life that badly needed attention. I left them till after my travels, and now I was finding that I had left only problems to return to. I had to find some way to refocus and integrate back into my life … to be normal. I had to change “racing is life” to “work is life, with an ‘occasional ride’”. I decided that, although I can’t race again right away, I can train, I can reset my focus, and I can find joy in the less competitive things. I can move more slowly and still be happy.

Throughout life, we will experience these epic highs; the moments that make everyday life seem unimportant. However, the opposite is true: those mundane moments of everyday life are what make every great experience that much more special. Instead of dwelling on what you have just accomplished and hanging onto that high, make a plan, and give yourself a timeline for your next great experience. 

It might be a month from now or years from now. Give yourself something to work toward in your everyday life to carry that high and build toward a new one. Among the many added benefits of motorcycling, my favourite is the escape. When you get on your bike it’s just you and the machine, on any road, going anywhere. Whether you feel like life is too fast or too slow, we all feel the same speed while riding.